


I'll make the moon shine just for your view

by Vlindervin



Category: Druck | SKAM (Germany)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, I'm Still Bad At Tagging, Stargazing, i am outraged that they don't have an official ship tag yet, this is one of the sappiest things ive ever written and ive written A Lot of sap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-07 00:37:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20300569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vlindervin/pseuds/Vlindervin
Summary: Right now the world is dark and the sun is nowhere to be seen. When before there were two or three stars, now there are too many to count, scattered all over the dark blue surface farther than their eyes can follow.They’re laying down. Amira inhales once, deeply and lets it out. She thinks 'subhan’Allah' and briefly closes her eyes before opening them again.‘Do you know any constellations?’ Mohammed asks with a voice just soft enough to keep the fragile serenity of the night intact.***Amira and Mohammed go stargazing





	I'll make the moon shine just for your view

**Author's Note:**

> So, I needed a break from my davenzi wip that's hopefully almost done and this was the perfect opportunity to write smth else for a bit. Thank you, Tom (aka @grantaire-wannabe) for putting the image of mazzouk stargazing in my head! You're the best.
> 
> Anyway, hope this can make us forget abt hell week for a bit!

Amira doesn’t know how late it is currently, and for once it doesn’t bother her. Her brain isn’t running with all the things she still needs to get done for Australia, there’s no itch to check her phone for the time. It’s not an august evening in 2019, she’s just living a moment, in time with no strings to anything else. Her brain is rarely this quiet, only still like this during the instances she manages to focus on her prayers completely. 

Lying next to her, she feels Mohammed shift, just enough to let their arms brush. It had been a warm day, but the night is a bit more chilly. She smiles when she realizes she feels his warmth through their clothes. It enters her body through the contact and makes its way all over from there, until she’s shivering for another reason entirely.  
They’re laying on the grass at the park five minutes from her home. Mohammed had texted her earlier this evening: _I’m picking you up, be ready in ten_

She’s never gotten dressed this quickly, and to think she ever made fun of her friends for being absolutely whipped. True to his words, Mohammed had waited for her outside exactly ten minutes later, carrying a bag and a smile on his face that made her feel like she’d melt through the floor. 

He’d brought her to the park, to the middle of a grass field and stopped walking. Looking around and not seeing anyone or anything, she’d turned to him, confused, only to see him pull a blanket out of the bag and spreading it out on the ground, before settling on it, resting on his arms stretched out behind him. He’d only smiled and patted the space next to him, his stupid, lovely curls bouncing when he looked up at her. 

Amira had looked away and tried to hide the smile taking over her face, before giving in and sitting down next to him. ‘This is so cheesy.’

‘You love it’, he’d answered in his satin soft voice, and Amira hadn’t been able to come up with anything to say to that, so she hadn’t. 

At that moment, the sky had been that shade of grey it gets when the sun is just about gone, one or two rays still peeking above the surface, and the first stars come out of hiding, winking down at them as if to say _just you wait_. 

Right now, though, the world is dark and the sun is nowhere to be seen. When before there were two or three stars, now there are too many to count, scattered all over the dark blue surface farther than their eyes can follow. 

They’re laying down. Amira inhales once, deeply and lets it out. She thinks _subhan’Allah_ and briefly closes her eyes before opening them again. 

‘Do you know any constellations?’, Mohammed asks with a voice just soft enough to keep the fragile serenity of the night intact. 

‘Um, which one is the one that looks like a pan? I know that one.’ 

It doesn’t happen often that she feels out of her depth about something, but it’s also thrilling to have this thing he can maybe teach her. The romance of the whole situation isn’t lost on her, but if she dwells on it too long, she knows she might start blushing, or giggling or something else equally embarrassing. 

Mohammed lets out a small laugh, and when she turns her head to glare at him, she’s momentarily taken off guard at how, even if she can’t clearly make out all his features, his smile is still as disarmingly beautiful as it’s always been. Who ever said the sun doesn’t shine at night?

‘The one that looks like a pan? I thought you were a scientist.’

‘First of all, _biology_ is my specialty. And anyway, as if you know better.’

He laughs again and Amira kind of wants to ask him to stop because functioning normally is really hard when he does that. 

‘Is that doubt I hear?’

‘I don’t know, is it?’ 

‘Well’, he says, his eyebrows raised. ‘_the one that looks like a pan_, is called the Big Dipper and is actually not a constellation, just part of one.’

‘Oh, you do know what you’re talking about.’

‘Of course I do.’ 

‘Tell me more, then.’

‘Okay’, Mohammed shifts on the blanket and stares up at the sky. ‘You see the big dipper?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Okay just over there, to the right of the Big Dipper, there’s a constellation that kind of looks like a woman. You can see her head and then the hair flowing behind it. There’s even a bow above her head. Do you see it?’

Amira’s searching the sky, but she doesn’t really recognize anything beside the four stars she can trace. ‘Um, sure.’ 

Mohammed turns his head to look at her, eyebrows raised again, in disbelief this time. ‘You do?’ 

‘Yeah.’

‘Point it out then.’

They both know she’s lying, but she won’t give in now. Sending a silent prayer that she’s at least in the general vicinity, she points her finger to the left. And then. Mohammed starts laughing. Bad sign. 

Before she realizes what’s happening, his hand is also raised, and holding hers. She kind of hates that she doesn’t immediately realize he’s holding her hand so he can move it the right direction, the sudden contact causing her brain to stop working. 

When he’s satisfied, he says: ‘That’s more like it.’ Her eyes are focused on their hands, but she can hear the smile in his voice. ‘You see it now?’

Working very hard to focus on the sky and not on the boy beside her, she forces herself to pay attention to the stars. And then: ‘I see it!’

And she does, she’s not pretending anymore. Once you see a constellation, it’s stuck for the rest of your life, she knows, and a thrill goes through her when she realizes that every time she’ll see the figure in the sky, she’ll think of Mohammed and his warm hand holding hers, his soft voice explaining this to her with so much care and attention. The way a constellation is tattooed on the night sky for the rest of eternity, or something close enough, she knows he’s engraved on her mind too, a permanent presence whenever she looks up. 

He lets their hands fall back next to them, not letting go. ‘You see? That’s Al-Jawzah. I think she’s called the hunter here.’ 

And then he starts telling her a story of a couple, soon to be married, of a woman that died and of sisters that grieved. He tells her how so many stories behind the constellations are sad, but that at the end the person that’s done wrong, always ends up in the sky, and so ultimately they exist to give people hope of a happy ending, even if it’s an unexpected one. 

She’s pretty sure she could listen to him talk for hours. When Essam was small, Omar used to tell him stories a lot, to calm him down when he had a bit too much energy, and when he noticed she always listened to them too, he started telling the stories to the both of them. She hasn’t thought of these memories in such a long time, but she feels the same comfort and safeness right now listening to Mohammed’s voice as she did back then with Omar. 

‘How come you know so much about it?’ 

It’s obviously not something he just happens to know a lot about, she senses a backstory behind the passion in his voice and the light in his eyes. He’s quite for a bit, just looking up at the sky and she holds his hand a little bit tighter to let him know she’s here whenever. 

‘Back home, my dad always used to drive us out to the desert not far from where we lived, and we’d just look at the sky together for hours. He knew so much about it and spent nights telling me stories about it and and teaching me all the names.’ He pauses in his talking, looks at her before continuing. ‘The sky in Germany is nothing compared to the one we had there, Amira, that one looks like it shouldn’t be real. It’s hard to explain. I’ll show you one day, I promise. It’s the most beautiful thing I think I’ve ever seen.’’

Normally she’d make a teasing comment about him assuming things about the future, but this isn’t the time, not when his voice holds so much emotions, not when he’s obviously showing her a part of him that’s hidden for most. She doesn’t want to do anything to shatter the vulnerability and trust he’s showing her. ‘Insha’Allah. I’d love that.’ 

He smiles at her, heartbreakingly honest. ‘There’s nothing like it, honestly. When we first got to Germany I had a lot of trouble sleeping and all I wanted was to be back there and watch the sky with my dad. It’s one of the things I miss most about home.’ 

‘I can’t imagine.’

‘My dad always said you haven’t truly felt god until you’ve seen a night sky in the desert.’

She’s not sure what to answer to that admission. She wants to say something that will comfort him or to give him a sense of home, but she knows it’s impossible and that that’s not why he told her this. He always revels in telling her things and talking to her, simply content to have her hear him. She understands the sentiment. 

‘I always imagined I’d do the same with my kids later.’

‘Your football team of kids, you mean?’ 

He laughs and she feels it in her chest.

‘What else did he tell you?’

He shifts a bit so he’s half laying on his side, able to look at her easily but still mostly facing the sky. He catches her eye and starts talking. 

‘Well, there’s this one that I love. You can’t see it from here.’ He looks at her intently, and when he sees her pay attention, he continues. ‘It’s called _Rania_, and the story behind it is one of a girl, the most beautiful girl in the world. She had very dark, intense eyes that would hypnotize anyone that looked into them, and when she laughed the whole world paused for a moment to listen to it.

‘She wasn’t just beautiful, though, she was also so smart, that all the kings and queens all over the world wanted to ask her for advice. Fooled by her cold stare, many believed she wouldn’t lend a hand, but those who knew her, knew that deep inside, she had a pure heart and would do anything to make the world a better place.’

She’s embarrassed she didn’t get what he was playing at sooner, enraptured by his voice and beautiful words. When she realizes, she breaks eye contact. She feels her cheeks heating up and even though it’s dark, she turns her head to shield her face from him. She mutters an ‘oh my god’ and only turns back when she hears him laugh. In response, she just shakes her head. 

‘What, not impressed with my star knowledge?’

‘Me? Impressed? Never’, but there’s a smile on her face proving the exact opposite. 

‘Well, I wasn’t done yet.’ 

And despite what she’d like to make him believe, she really wants to hear what he’ll come up with next.

‘Go on, then. Impress me’, she says, eyes never leaving his. She’s the one laughing this time when, clearly flustered, he brings a hand through his hair and barely manages to get out an: ‘Um, well --’ 

The knowledge that she can make him as flustered as he gets her, exhilarates her, makes her heart grow three sizes. 

After a while, he pulls himself together and starts talking again. ‘Well, one day she meets a very handsome gentleman she just can’t resist.’ 

Amira snorts at that, and Mohammed pokes her in the side, before continuing his story as if nothing happened. 

‘And because this _very handsome gentleman_ was also very smart, he told she should start ruling her own kingdom. And, convinced by his wise words, she became Kanselierin of her kingdom. Her people loved her a lot and everyone around the world admired her so much that when she died, after having lived a long, happy life with the handsome gentleman by her side, God put her up in the sky as a tribute to the mark she left on the world.’

She’s aware that she’s looking at him with every bit of wonder and awe she feels for him, but it would be impossible to reel it, so she doesn’t even try. 

‘Are you saying God is going to turn me into a star?’

‘Who says I was talking about you?’

He lets himself be pushed, his laughter rumbling beneath her hands where she touches him. They look at each other for a while before it feels like she’s going to fly off into space any second now, and then she looks back up at the sky. 

All she hears is the chirping of late night insects, very faint noises of cars passing by, and most clearly Mohammed’s breathing next to her. 

Then, she speaks up: ‘Did you know every star we can see right now is actually brighter than the sun? They just appear tiny because they’re so much farther away.’

She looks at him just long enough to see him shake his head. 

‘In comparison, the sun isn’t that big at all. The other stars are just light years and light years away. Which is actually really cool because it means that what we’re seeing right now, is thousands of years old, it just took this much time to arrive to the point where we’re able to see it. Light travels at the speed of 300.000 kilometers a second, I think? And still the light takes thousands, or even millions of years to reach us. That’s… so incredible to me. 

And before the light arrives here, it has to travel through the earth’s atmosphere, which is actually the reason we think the stars twinkle? The different densities of the atmosphere  
causes the light to, like, bend, I guess, and that’s why it ‘twinkles’ when we see it. But, anyway, that’s something else entirely. 

My point was that when you look up at the night sky you’re actually looking back in time in a way, because you see the sky that existed thousands and thousands of years back.’ 

She shrugs, before saying: ‘And I don’t know, I just think that’s really cool and a bit magic in its own way.’

She’d gotten really passionate halfway through the explanation, gesticulating wildly and her voice growing a bit louder, only noticing how enthusiastic she’d gotten once she’s done and has to lower her arms to the ground. She almost feels embarrassed, until she catches sight of the way he’s looking at her. It reminds her of the way Hanna looks at Jonas performing when she thinks no one is watching her. It reminds her of the way Matteo shamelessly takes in David whenever he’s talking about one of his projects. 

Mohammed looks purely enraptured, as if he’d do anything she’d ask of him right now. 

She never imagined one day someone would look at her like that, but then again, she’d never thought she’d look at anyone that way either, and here we are.  
She’s feeling so much, any second now she’s going to burst into flames. 

He laughs quietly. ‘I’m not sure I understand everything you just said, but you’re right, that’s actually super cool.’ 

‘Sorry’, she mutters, aware of the fact that she gets a bit carried away sometimes and forgets not everyone took science for their Abi. 

He shakes his head dismissively, and gives her a smile that brings her mood right back to the elation she felt before. 

‘So you do know about stars?’

She shrugs. ‘I only know science. I don’t have any beautiful stories to tell.’

‘Now you do.’ 

She humms affirmatively. ‘And you’ve got some facts for when you want to show off.’

Mohammed sighs dramatically. ‘No use when the one girl you want to show off to, is never impressed.’ 

‘Hmm, well, I happen to know that she’s actually very impressed, even though she might not tell you.’

It’s quiet after that, like they both feel this is a sacred moment that should be treasured and protected, a flame shielded by careful hands, this moment precious and fragile enough to be swept away by a gust of wind. 

She realizes she does have stories to tell now, and she thinks it’s a fitting symbol for the place Mohammed holds. He didn’t only bring beautiful stories into her life, he also embodies all the things those stories mean to her. Amira’s always liked facts and things she’s sure of and figuring out exactly what things mean, without needing them to be pretty or to make her feel good or to make her smile. They just are. The whole point of these stories, though, is that they’re supposed to make you dream of beautiful things. Mohammed makes her sigh, and grin so wide she covers her face, and dream, and fantasize. He makes her nervous and excited and full of wonder. He’s the romance, the beauty of her story. The dreams and wonder and stupid, stupid butterflies that were previously lacking from her life, and that she never knew she craved, never knew could bring so much to her life. That’s the stories and that’s Mohammed. 

A sudden gust of wind causes Amira to shiver. She rubs her arms as an attempt to warm up, but then Mohammed’s hands take over and he’s asking: ‘Are you cold? I have some mint tea, if you want.’

And then his hands are gone and she needs to do her very best not to make a disappointed noise at the sudden loss. 

He’s rummaging through his bag and, sitting up, Amira sees him pull out a thermos and then fill a small, illustrated tea glass. He hands it over and the warmth immediately travels all through her. He starts to pour himself one too. 

‘You really made mint tea and brought actual glasses and everything?’ She is unreasonably charmed. 

‘Of course I did. I’m taking the most beautiful girl out at night. What kind of Arab do you think I am?’ 

She laughs. 

‘It’s my mom’s way of making it. It’s the best, you’ll see.’ 

Under his observing eyes, she takes a sip and realizes he’s right. It’s sweet enough, while also not taking away the taste of mint. Eyes comically wide, she says: ‘You’re right, this is really good!’

‘I told you.’ 

Later tonight, he’ll walk her home and kiss her hand before wishing her sweet dreams. Once inside, she’ll get a text saying _I lied earlier_. 

_About what?_

_Your smile. That’s the most beautiful._

Amira will replay the conversations in her head, falling asleep to the remnants of that soft voice, lulling her to sleep, feeling safe and giddy and happy.  
But for now, they finish their tea. She still doesn’t know how late it is, and when she sees a falling star, she only asks for one thing and that’s for this night to be never ending.

**Author's Note:**

> A few things:  
\- I don't know much about stars, everything in this story comes from google and me hopefully understanding things right 
> 
> \- The name Amira means 'princess' in Arabic, and Rania means 'queen' so I thought it was fitting
> 
> \- Thank you to MARTA (DecayingPapers on here, go read their stories, they're so so beautiful) for the fic title, which is a lyric from the song 'someone to you' by banners, and also for assuring my science talk kind of makes sense and also for being an amazing person all around I love you. 
> 
> \- You can find me on tumblr @vlindervin7
> 
> \- Thank you for reading and I hope you have a wonderful day/night
> 
> Love,   
Jasmine


End file.
